


Scorched Earth Always Stood Out

by Littlebabyleaf



Series: KlanceWeek2k16 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Klanceweek2k16, M/M, Red/Blue - Freeform, i know I'm late sorrrryyyyyy, this prompt was really hard to do yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 08:46:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7677805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlebabyleaf/pseuds/Littlebabyleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For when Lance had never seen someone look so beautiful in purple.<br/>Klance Week~ Red/Blue</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scorched Earth Always Stood Out

**Author's Note:**

> I've read some other people's red/blue entries and they are all much better than this, I'm sorry I just had a really hard time with this prompt yikes, sorry it's so short!

Lance loved him.

He loved him even on the days when Keith was the sun, wanting nothing more than to be perpetually alone, burning everything and everyone who got close to it. On those days, Lance became Mercury, the sun’s biggest admirer. He put up with the constant burning and anger, just because he wanted nothing more than to be with him.

And on the days Keith become the color red, a color that universally read stop, don’t touch, danger, stay away, Lance became blue. He became the color of water, the color of strength, and inner warmth, he became the color of home in the middle of nowhere, because Keith had become the color of nowhere. He became blue because he had never seen someone look so beautiful in purple before.

The first time they made love, they recreated the big bang that created the universe. It was too beautiful, too life giving, too touching, to be described as some vulgar slang term. Pounded, or banged or fucking, didn’t do it justice and were too hard and jagged for the soft curve of it. The closest word the human language had to describe it was making love. The idea that in Keith’s college dorm, on a tuesday at 3 PM because his roommate was gone, the two of them had _built_ love. They had millions of pages written about the very thing they had created there.

There, they had created a galaxy, a galaxy of three colors. Lance painted the waters, the skies, and spun stars between Keith’s teeth with the extra time he had. Keith had painted the mountains, the dirt, the asteroids even. But together, they painted a universe so purple, so beautiful, so lilac, that gods looked down upon them with envy. Shocked that something so beautiful had been made in 30 minutes, on a tuesday at 3 PM because Keith’s roommate was gone. They couldn’t believe something so mortal and so real, had created something omnispective and powerful. They couldn’t believe love was purple.

They laid in Keith’s bed when they were done, looking at the ceiling admiring the world they had painted around them, Keith’s white walls had never looked so beautiful before. Maybe that’s why Lance loved him, because he even made white seem interesting, because when he was with him it was like the world was on fire.

A persian poet named Hafez said, “Love came and set the world on fire”, and Lance finally understood what he meant.

Keith gave him extra color cones, as if there were shades of red that existed that you didn’t even know about. Shades of red they only written about in bibles, and have only been rumoured among whispers in the pantheons of the gods.

As they laid in Keith’s bed, they laid silent, afraid that the world they had just created was made of glass, made of something so fragile just uttering a single sound could break it.

As they laid in Keith’s bed, their hands intertwined, their legs sore, the taste of Keith still bubbling the back of Lance’s throat, he told Keith he loved him.

Keith laughed and strawberries, what Keith tasted like, had never tasted so bitter before.

Keith said, easy fuck, Keith said, friends with benefits, Keith said he doesn’t do relationships, Keith basically said, human blow up doll. And in that moment, Lance watched as the universe turned black, they were wrong. Uttering a sound wouldn’t shatter the universe but suck the life out of it like some sort of parasite.

And on the Tuesday at 3 PM when Keith laughed, his laugh similar to the sound of the nails on a chalkboard, Lance became the color gray. Lance become emotionless, Lance apologized, Lance blamed the euphoria, Lance laughed, his laugh hollow and hurting. Lance laughed, because he would’ve rather had a lifetime of easy fucks, than a lifetime of never touching Keith again. Of never feeling his calloused hands on his back, of never feeling his teeth pinch the soft areas of where his legs met his torso, of never feeling Keith’s hair in his hands, it was a lifetime he couldn’t bare to live in. He would rather have stood in a burning world with Keith, eventually just turning into another set blackened, gnarled bones of someone who tried love him, then let go of him and forever be forced look at the spots they charred together. Scorched earth always stood out.

Thus, on a Tuesday at 3 PM in Keith’s dorm because it was the only time Keith’s roommate was away, Lance had decided he loved red more than himself. He decided he would trade a thousand blues for a single purple.

He finally understood why purple was the color of royalty, because looking at the colors they had created in that small room on a Tuesday at 3 PM as anything but royal, would’ve been blasphemous.

Blue is a sad color, it is a color that has seen it pigments and looked so enviously of the other colors, believing them to be so much more beautiful. When Blue met Red with all of it’s emotional unavailability, all of its anger, all of its passion, Blue had never felt more envious. Blue tried to make red love it, but ultimately decided to settle for Red hating it, as long as Red thought about Blue, Blue could continue to live. The two had been locked in a war ever since. Blue the color of home in the middle of nowhere, Red the color of nowhere, Blue the color of dreamers, Red the color of realists, Blue the color of the hurt, Red the color of the damaged.

On a Tuesday at 3 PM in Keith’s dorm, Red had won another battle, and Blue had to watch another soldier turn gray, turn nothing, turn broken. Gray is the color of the broken. On a Tuesday at 3 PM in Keith’s dorm, Lance learned why they painted stop signs red, it was a warning. Keith was a warning.      

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are always appreciated thank you!!


End file.
